“And, perhaps,” added Padre Passanha, “Heaven caused him to feel remorse for his crime.”
Here they all rose from the table, and, having finished their dinner, went out to breathe the evening air. The sun was low on the horizon, but an hour had still to elapse before nightfall.
“These stories are not very lively,” said Fragoso, “and our betrothal dinner was best at the beginning.”
“But it was your fault, Fragoso,” answered Lina.
“How my fault?”
“It was you who went on talking about the district and the diamonds, when you should not have done so.”
“Well, that’s true,” replied Fragoso; “but I had no idea we were going to wind up in that fashion.”
“You are the first to blame!”
“And the first to be punished, Miss Lina; for I did not hear you laugh all through the dessert.”
The whole family strolled toward the bow of the jangada. Manoel and Benito walked one behind the other without speaking. Yaquita and her daughter silently followed, and all felt an unaccountable impression of sadness, as if they had a presentiment of some coming calamity.